


A Whole Lot More Something Than I Thought

by Elthadriel



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Love Confessions, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4265121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dorian realises he is in love with Iron Bull he makes some rather poor life decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whole Lot More Something Than I Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Can I write fic were Dorian doesn't cry? I mean, probably. Am I about to start? No. 
> 
> Seriously though, I make Dorian cry far too often. The next thing I write, aside from the shit I already have started will have some emotionally venerable Bull.

Dorian didn’t knock; he hadn’t been knocking for months, rather striding in to Bull’s quarters like he owned the place. Bull didn’t mind, he liked that Dorian was comfortable here and it wasn’t as if there was anything he got up to that he had have a problem with Dorian walking in on.

Worryingly though, instead of some clever remark, heatless insult, or, as with some more memorable occasions, wordlessly shoving Bull into the bed, striping surprisingly quickly, and clambering expectantly onto Bull to sit on his face, thoroughly demanding to eaten out, Dorian least back against the door, head bowed, refusing to look at Bull. Bull couldn’t see Dorian’s face but he could hear his unsteady breathing betraying how close to tears Dorian was, but more tellingly, he could smell Dorian.

Dorian’s smell varied great deal depending on his current preferences of cologne but under it, for someone who had the heightened Qunari sense of smell, there was the unmistakeable scent of musty old books, clinging primarily to Dorian’s hands, and, more pleasingly from Bull’s perspective, the faint, but ever present smell of Bull himself. Now however, plastered jarringly over everything else was the unmistakable smell of another man, mixing seamlessly with the smell of sex also clinging to Dorian. 

“You all right there, Dorian?” Bull asked, careful not to sound even the slightest bit accusing.

Dorian took a deep shuddering breath and raised his head, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I fucked someone else.” 

Bull didn’t react, he already knew after all, but it stung in a slightly unexpected and unrecognisable way. Dorian sniffed miserably dropped his head again, one hand coming up to cover his face. Even if Bull didn’t mind all, it clearly upset Dorian though Bull couldn’t begin to guess why.

“All right,” he said, hoping this would prompt Dorian into further explanation. 

It was the wrong thing to say apparently because Dorian sobbed, and pressed himself back further against the door.

Bull closed the gap between them and pulled Dorian into his arms. Dorian all but melted against him, wrapping his arms around Bulls waist, and burying his face in Bull’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” He said against Bull’s skin.

“I’m not sure what you have to be sorry about,” Bull said. They had never made any promises of exclusivity even though neither of them had taken advantage of that until now.

“Please, Bull, please just say you forgive me,” Dorian sounded frantic and Bull still couldn’t understand why.

Bull frowned. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Dorian looked up at him then and he looked so pathetically devastated. “Please, Bull. I need… I need you to forgive me. Please.”

“I forgive you,” Bull said at last, finding himself completely unable to deny Dorian anything.

Dorian clutched himself close to Bull, gripping the back of Bull’s harness tightly enough that Bull worried about Dorian’s hands against the hard leather.

Dorian made no move to say anything further but his body shook with silent but racking sobs and Bull could feel Dorian’s tears against his chest. After too long of not knowing what to do Bull collected Dorian in his arms and moved them to the bed, settling against the headboard, and holding Dorian in his lap while Dorian cried, still clutching at Bull like he might disappear.

Bull reached over and gathered one of his blankets and wrapped it around Dorian’s shoulders, feeling slightly accomplished as Dorian huddled into it.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Bull asked after Dorian’s crying had faded to soft sniffling and only the occasional tear.

“It’s stupid,” Dorian said, but he lifted his head from Bull’s shoulder to look at him with wet, red-rimmed eyes.

“It’s not if it’s upset you like this,” Bull assured him.

“You can’t know that.” Dorian gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh that Bull hadn’t heard from him in a while. It still set his teeth on edge though at some point had also become accompanied with an ache in Bull’s chest and the urge to wrap Dorian up in his arms. He needed to see Dorian’s face however, so he settled for rubbing soothing circles on Dorian’s lower back.

“Talk to me, Dorian.” Bull hadn’t had to ask that in a while, Dorian had become more and more accustomed to making what he was thinking clear to Bull both in and out of bed but tonight Dorian was behaving so different from what Bull had come to expect he was forced to return to basics. 

Dorian took several deep breaths, each one marginally steadier than the last before he continued. “Have you been with anyone else since we started doing,” Dorian waved one of his hands vaguely, “whatever this is?” 

“No.”

“Why not?” Even Bull couldn’t work out exactly what emotion Dorian was trying to convey only that he was attempting to cover the distress still lingering in the edge of his tone.

“At first, I thought you would be happier if I wasn’t; you gave me the impression that you had never had someone’s full attention before and I thought you deserved better.” Dorian hunched in on himself, looking, if possible, more miserable than before. Bull continued quickly to repair the apparent misstep. “Ass like yours deserves someone to worship it free of distractions.”

Dorian gave the smallest smile despite himself. “And later?” 

Bull shrugged. “Later I didn’t want to. Who could live up to you, ‘Vint?”

“Neither have I,” Dorian said softly. “Until tonight I suppose. I’m sorry.”

“I forgave you, remember?” Bull caressed Dorian’s shoulder with his thumb, trying to sooth away Dorian’s still obvious distress. 

“Don’t you want to know who it was?” Dorian said.

“Do you want me to know who?” Bull asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Why did you do it?” Bull asked instead, finally deciding they had danced around the issue long enough. The next question would have to be why Dorian was so upset about it.

Dorian cursed him viciously in Tevene, and struggled in Bull’s grip but he seemed more upset than angry. Bull let Dorian pull away but Dorian didn’t go far and returned quickly, visibly relaxing when Bull wrapped an arm back around him.

There was a long silence before Dorian spoke again.

“I love you.”

“Oh,” Bull said dumbly. “Oh,” he said again but understanding was dawning in his voice. “Dorian,” he said and his voice was so full of pity it hurt but Dorian allowed himself to be pulled back into Bull’s arms, clinging to him desperately as though that could change anything.

Bull supposed that answered his next question too. 

Bull murmured meaningless comfort against the top of Dorian’s head as the mage struggled with tears again. Bull hadn’t had any idea what to expect when Dorian had arrived in such a state but this would have been one of his last guesses. Bull didn’t know who to even start about addressing this.

It didn’t take long this time for Dorian to get enough of a hold of himself to continue the conversation and he sat back but remained leaning into the hand Bull kept on his shoulder. He hadn’t actually started crying this time but that was a small comfort to Bull when Dorian was clearly still so upset. 

How did exactly did Dorian expect this to go?

Dorian’s hair was a mess from where Bull had soothed him, and his kohl was trailing down his cheeks and smudged around his eyes. Bull was certain that at some point Dorian had wiped his nose on his sleeve. He was looked disgusting and Bull didn’t care. He wanted to hug Dorian again, and hold him until he stopped hurting.

“I’ve been in love before,” Dorian admitted, looking down at his hands, tugging distractedly at his cuffs rather than looking at Bull. “I’ve come to expect it to go a certain way.”

Bull didn’t ask Dorian to elaborate; he could imagine almost exactly what Dorian was describing. Unbidden the image of a younger Dorian having his heartbroken by men who had no concern for him beyond what he could provide for them in bed leapt to the front of Bull’s mind. Such men rarely wanted a partner to remain long if there was a risk of them becoming attached. 

Bull still wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to respond to this but he knew had absolutely no desire, or intention of joining those in Dorian’s past that had treated him so poorly.

Dorian had continued talking while Bull had drifted though he had disintegrated into slightly anxious rambling. “…When I realised that I was- How I felt, I panicked. I didn’t want to have feelings for you or deal with what that would mean. I convinced myself I had only gotten attached because I’d been with you for so long and I thought if I fucked someone else I would get over it. But I hated it; I wish I could undo it but I still feel like he’s touching me. He was fine, good even, considerate. But I didn’t feel... It wasn’t... It wasn’t you and I wanted it to be you.”

Bull used on of his large thumbs to wipe a lone tear from under Dorian’s eye.

“You can tell me to leave if you want,” Dorian whispered. “I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Dorian looked angry for a moment. “I know what I want, what do you want?”

“I’d like you to stay,” Bull amended. “I’d like to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said again, but continued before Bull could interrupt him, “for thinking so little of you. You’ve never given me any reason to believe you are anything like those men.”

“It’s all right, I understand. I’m not angry at you.” Bull said, hoping to appease Dorian but having the complete opposite effect.

“But I want you to be! I want us to be something that you would get angry over and I have no right to ask that of you. It was implied this was no strings attached and it’s selfish of me-”

“Dorian,” Bull interrupted, “I’m not angry because it doesn’t matter. If you want to sleep with other people, that’s fine, if you want to sleep with other people and not me, that’s fine too. That’s not the part of our relationship I couldn’t bear to lose.” He placed clear emphasis on the word relationship. 

Dorian gaped at him a moment, swallowing as he tried to find words.

Bull pressed on. “I would miss other thing far more than your tight little ass. Sharing drinks with you while you pretend not to cuddle me, or listening to you rant about magic in the middle of the night, or you complaining multiply times a day about my fucking trousers or my smell, even though we both know you like both. Who you sleep with doesn’t concern me as long I still get to see those parts of you.”

“I’m not asking for you to love me back but please, please tell me that this isn’t still some shit about giving me what I need,” Dorian sounded slightly angry but there was an unmistaken hint of hope in his voice.

“It’s not.” Bull had never lied to Dorian and he hoped that Dorian remembered that now.

Dorian’s breath caught in his throat. “What am I to you Bull?”

“I don’t know,” Bull admitted. “I don’t this only that I have no idea what I would do without you in my life and I never want to have to find out.”

“That’s not love,” Dorian snapped.

“No,” Bull agreed, “but it could be. If you’re willing to give me time to get there.”

“I…” Dorian paused to wet his lips. “I would like that.”

“So would I,” Bull said, shifting his hand to cup the side of Dorian’s face.

Dorian turned his head slightly to kiss the heel of Bull’s hand. He sighed. “I feel rather foolish. If I’d simply come and talked to you about this instead of behaving like a… Like a…” Dorian fumbled for a suitable comparison. 

“Like an emotionally repressed ‘Vint?” Bull suggested. Dorian glared but there was little heat to it.

“Yes, Bull, thank you. Like an emotionally repressed ‘vint, I could have avoided this embarrassing display.”

“You might have saved yourself some grief,” Bull agreed.

“I’ll work on it.”

“I think actually talking about our feelings is something we could both work on,” Bull said. “Neither of us have much practice.” 

They sat in silence for a long time but Dorian seemed more himself, though still with a tension to his frame that Bull hoped he could ease away, and Bull had decided on the next course of action.

“Here’s what we are going to do,” Bull said, and Dorian visibly relaxed as Bull took control of the situation. “I’m going to go get us some water that you will heat for a bath and I’ll help you clean off the feel of the other man. Then we’ll sleep off the remains of this mood, and tomorrow I’ll tell Krem I’m feeling sick and you’ll leave your research for one day and we’ll see how much of the day we can spend without leaving the bed. How does that sound?”

Dorian smiled. It was a fragile thing, ruined somewhat by his still tear stained face but it was genuine all the same.

“That sounds perfect.” 

Bull pulled Dorian close to kiss him tenderly.


End file.
